


Sugar Coated

by notthelasttime



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: (probably slow burn?? since i'm incapable of writing anything else), Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Pining, Rating May Change, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, loving depictions of baked goods
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2018-10-14 01:20:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10525908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notthelasttime/pseuds/notthelasttime
Summary: The building's half obscured by ivy, there's no air conditioning and the front door is falling off the hinges, but with a little bit of luck, Gladio and Ignis might just be able to keep their new café running. If only they could figure out what to name the place.Prompto's not sure if the baked goods lining the display case arereallythat good, or if he's just sweet on the man that's making them.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I gave myself a cavity writing this

Prompto's first introduction to the coffeehouse and, by extension, Ignis Scientia, was through an innocuous white box sitting on the bench next to Noctis one morning. The spring semester at the University of Insomnia was in full swing at that point, but the chill of winter had still been clinging to the city with an icy grip. Prompto pulled his jacket tighter and kept walking.

The two friends had taken to meeting outside the academic buildings before their shared morning class in the small grassy area that served as the campus quad. The University was large, and being sprawled out through a decent portion of the city, it was sometimes hard to distinguish what was "on" or "off" campus, especially when University buildings were wedged between anything from office buildings and restaurants to residences. But in this particular area there were five main campus buildings on the same block, and the little area of greenery that existed in the square between three of those buildings was filled with benches and frequently overrun by students, weather permitting, enjoying the sunshine and loitering between classes. 

There was no sunshine on this morning, but Noct had been waiting for Prompto regardless. He was busy on his phone, cup of coffee held between his knees and a pained expression on his face, probably having realized he had forgotten to complete one assignment or another. For someone who still managed to scrape by with decent grades, Noctis seemed to spend a lot of time falling asleep in class and forgetting due dates. Prompto only hoped Noct wouldn't bail on their modern art history class to scramble home and finish whatever he had due later in the day. Aside from the fact this was the only class they had shared together since the start of their Junior year, sometimes the whispered comments and jokes that passed between them in the back lecture hall were the only thing that kept Prompto conscious. Modern and highly conceptual had had never really been Prompto's deal when it came to art, especially not in a darkened classroom with a professor that droned on in a voice monotonous enough to lull a behemoth to sleep.

"Mornin' buddy," Prompto said with a slap to Noct's shoulder, barely earning him a glance up and a distracted wave from Noct. He plopped down on the bench next to him, checking the time, "Alright, what'd you forget this time?" 

Noctis shot a half-assed glare in his direction, telling him _whatever_ was going on, it was enough to have Noct stressed out.

Prompto was spared being left in suspense for long though, "Essay for Izunia's class. I _thought_ I had another week but apparently he moved the deadline up. Posted it online but didn't bother telling us in class. _Typical_." Noct was scowling now, and for good reason. 

Professor Izunia had quite the reputation around campus (mostly formed on claims of his students for being a gigantic gaping asshole). He was a highly regarded academic when it came to Lucian history and mythology and had his work published in reputable journals on more than one occasion. The University no doubt enjoyed the level of prestige that employing him brought with it, but his students were usually absolutely miserable. 

Noctis in particular had his fair share of run-ins with the professor. Izunia like to remind him that, despite being the son of Regis Caelum (perhaps one of the most influential men in business, running Caelum Industries from their head office in Insomnia), Noct would receive no _special treatment,_ because he himself was _nothing special_. Which he often liked to remind Noctis of frequently. In the middle of class. In front of all the other students. He seemed to be doing his best to try and fail Noct, and more often than not Prompto found himself telling Noctis to just drop the damn class. But of course, there were a handful of courses that were required for Noctis as a history major that only Izunia taught, because nothing can ever be that easy.

"Look, I know what you're thinking, and I'm telling you don't do it," Prompto told him, already knowing he was going to be on the losing side of this argument. "You've got like, four hours between the end of this class and the start of Izunia's, that's more than enough time to bang out an essay, right?"

But Noct was already shaking his head, "I need as much time on this thing I can get, you _know_ how hard he grades me."

"Noct please, if I have to spend another lecture staring at abstract sculptures that all look like vulvas without someone to be miserable with I'm gonna scream." 

"You'll be _fine_ ," Noct said while rolling his eyes. "Here, have a pastry, that'll cheer you up," and he shoved the white box on the bench in Prompto's direction. 

He didn't like being so easily distracted but curiosity, as always, got the best of him. Prompto popped the lid open to find three round, golden brown pastries, yellow filling in the center, covered in red fruit and flaked with slivers of almond. Maybe he could forgive Noct for ditching class after all.

"What kind?" he asked, picking out the best one.

"Rhubarb custard something? I don't remember."

Prompto gave a good natured huff of exasperation and said, "You're useless, you know that?" then took a bite. 

Okay, he could _definitely_ forgive Noct for ditching class. There probably wasn't a whole lot he _wouldn't_ forgive Noctis for as long as he promised to bring more of those pastries. The rhubarb was nice and tart, cutting through the sweetness of the soft custard center, and the puff pastry itself was flakey heaven. 

The Gods themselves couldn't make pastries this good.

"Mmfwhrrdyooggds?" he tried to ask through a full mouth, and Noct finally gave him a smile while he nudged Prompto's shoulder.

" _What?_ "

Prompto swallowed, " _Where_ did you _get this?_ It's so good dude. It's _so_ good."

Noct laughed, "I'll be sure to pass on the compliment to Ignis."

It took Prompto a moment to respond, already shoving as much pastry as he could fit into his mouth, actually making an attempt to chew and swallow before speaking this time. 

"Hold up, Ignis made these? Ok, now I get why Gladio was so adamant about roping him into that whole coffee shop thing."

Noct was laughing again, and Prompto could at least feel a little better knowing he was able to cheer his friend up a bit. Noctis was handling a lot more than he was given credit for, and people tended to write him off as being moody or self centered instead of realizing that he was just a stressed out college kid with high expectations placed on him. Combined with his father's reputation and a slightly awkward and shy personality, peopled always seemed to assuming all the wrong things about him.

"You talk about them like you know them," he said, and while Prompto pulled a face like it was an affront, he could hardly argue. 

"Look, it's not my fault you never let me out around your _cool friends_ ," Prompto said, rolling his eyes while Noct told him to shut up.

Noctis had known Ignis and Gladio for as long as he could remember, or so he said. Prompto had, over the years, picked and pried for more information about the two, as Noct tended to be pretty close-lipped about himself (about everything, really), and the periodic mention of Ignis or Gladio had eventually made him curious. It wasn't that Noct didn't want him to know, it was just his way to be short with words, and didn't usually like talking about himself. Normally it didn't matter much, as Prompto did enough talking for the both of them, and while he would never force Noctis into sharing things he wanted to keep private, he eventually started questioning him about his two oldest friends.

To hear Noct tell it, Gladio had always just kind of been _around_. Clarus, his father, was one of Regis's closest friends and advisors, helping manage the Caelum Empire, as it were. Gladio and Noct, being roughly around the same age had been shuffled off together, as parents tend to do. When Prompto asked how Ignis fit in, Noct just shrugged.

"He was Gladio's friend first. Some kids were giving him a hard time at school and Gladio stepped in," according to Noct, Ignis as a child had been a little too serious, a little too much of a stickler for rules, coming off as some sort of stuck up teacher's pet. Kids could be cruel, Prompto knew that first hand, and he knew that one instance of telling some bullies to fuck off, even _with_ a friend, usually didn't do much to stop it. When he mentioned it Noct laughed, "Not when your friend comes from one of the most important families in Insomnia and is already built like a brick shithouse at age 12. Either way, Gladio started bringing him around after that. I'm sure my dad had something to do with it," Noct looked annoyed at the thought. Regis had apparently thought Noctis was too secluded in his young age and encouraged Gladio to bring some of his friends around so that he would be _socially competent_. 

"You should have seen Gladio when Iggy finally hit his growth spurt though," Noct said, "suddenly he went from the nerdy serious kid to the smart guy with the accent. People got interested in him. Although I guess getting to high school with a new bunch of students helped," he turned almost thoughtful for a second, "...I wonder if that's why Gladio started working out so much..." 

And that was that, apparently. All of Prompto's obvious hinting that he'd like to meet these two mystery men fell on deaf ears, as Noct waved his comments aside and usually said something along the lines of, _you're bound to run into each other at some point, yeah?_

If Prompto was being honest maybe he wanted to meet Noct's friends for selfish reasons, more than anything. Over the short period of time they'd known each other, Noct had become his best friend, really one of his _only_ friends. It wasn't that he was jealous that Noct had other friends- of course not- but maybe he felt like he was missing out a little being out on the fringes on this part of Noct's life. After thinking it he usually felt like he was being an overbearing idiot though. Obviously they didn't have to do everything together, or know all the same people. Still, when he made his friends sound so likeable when he talked about them, it was hard for Prompto to not want to be a part of it. He just never wanted Noct to get the wrong idea about him, like this was some underhanded way of trying to network and suck up to other influential people through Noct. Although ever since Gladio and Ignis had cut their own promising careers in Caelum Industries short, he supposed that really wasn't a problem anymore. 

"Well hey," Noct said, back at his phone, "why don't you swing by the coffee shop, they're sure to be there."

"Wait, _wait_ , they found a place? They're _open?_ "

"Uh... yeah?" Noct gestured at the pastry box and the coffee still wedged between his knees, "I thought I told you already." 

"You definitely did not."

"Ah, sorry," Noctis at least had enough shame to look a little sheepish about it, "Been a lot going on lately, you know? Anyway aren't you gonna be late for class?"

Prompto fished out his phone again and cursed loudly when he saw the time. They waved goodbyes as Prompto was already sprinting towards the front building, and he spent the rest of his morning trying to focus on the lecture at hand (abstract sculptures thankfully unmentioned), and not the rhubarb custard pastries that kept popping into his head. 

 

 

 

 

"So," Prompto asked, "when are we going?"

"Going where?" Noct was half distracted, eyes unmoving from the TV in front of him and a controller in his hand. They'd decided to study together in Noct's apartment, which, as usual, had turned into video games, pizza, and shit talking instead. Prompto sometimes felt like he was imposing on Noct, coming over all the time, often even spending the night, but every time he tried to talk about it Noctis waved him off. His apartment ( _expensive_ and _spacious_ apartment) was situated two blocks away from the block of University buildings where Noct had most of his classes, and he lived there without any roommates. Prompto's family lived in Insomnia, and half the appeal of going to school so close was being able to save on rent money and commute instead. Hanging out with Noct and crashing at his place often outweighed any desire he might have had to go home to an empty house, and Noctis never seemed to mind having the company. Prompto wondered if Noctis had his own unsettling feelings about coming home to an empty apartment. As different as the two of them seemed, there were so many small ways in which they were very much the same.

"The coffee shop! Come on you can't keep feeding me pastries and expect me to _not_ want to go." Noct had another bakery box on his table when Prompto came over, this time filled with hand pies stuffed with more rhubarb, but along with strawberries and sprinkled with sugar, the same perfect balance of sweet and tart. Prompto had two, all while bemoaning the miles he'd have to run to make up for both that and the pizza. In the end though, he decided it was worth it.

"You can go anytime you know," was Noct's response, ever helpful.

"Ok, for one, I don't even know where it is or what it's called, and two, why would I go on my own when you're friends with the guys running the place?"

"Citadel and Lafayette, it's right on the corner," Noct gave him a pointed look, and effectively cut Prompto off from his train of thought.

" _Dude_ ," Prompto said with sudden mock seriousness, "that place is cursed."

He was mostly joking. Mostly. 

He'd have to admit though, the corner location didn't exactly have the best track record when it came to keeping places in business. Once upon a time it had been another antique shop on a street lined with antique shops (the old, dark and dusty kind with hours so limited they never seemed to be open), but an ambitious soul had bought and attempted to renovate the place into a restaurant serving, according to the sign outside, "authentic cuisine from Accordo." Very _expensive_ authentic cuisine from Accordo. The new owners had sent themselves into debt trying to fix the place up and were hardly seeing the type of customer interest they had hoped for. Citadel Boulevard ran straight through the city and saw its share of traffic, true enough, but the location was too far South and was situated closer to a population of broke college kids rather than businessmen and bureaucrats. Lafayette Street itself was sleepy and slow, geared more towards small specialty shops. The most popular thing on the street was the old used bookstore, the kind that had no rhyme or reason on its shelves, and stacks of books coating the floor. Lafayette had its charm for those that had the patience and time to peruse its secrets but it was hardly the bustling center of commerce that the restaurant needed to stay afloat. They stayed open for less than a year. 

After that a deli took its place, which had been a good idea in theory, but in practice the business spent more time being sold out of half the items on their menu due to poor planning. Cleanliness had been something to be desired as well, and the place started hosting more flies than customers. Soon they too died a slow painful death, and the lot sat empty. Some brave soul tried the place out again some time later, and it served a short stint as a cafe, but they had tried to be too many things at once, offering a wide selection of mediocre food, and wound up shutting down again in record time.

"Guess that's why Gladio got such a good deal on the place.They still can't decide on a name though, I'm pretty sure they've been calling it something different every time I go over there," Noct let out a groan of frustration after dying against the same enemy for the third time, flinging the controller onto the couch and flopping back into the cushions before looking over at Prompto again, the game over screen flashing on the TV, asking if he wanted to retry yet again.

"So," Prompto said, "When are we going?"

 

 

 

  

The building on the corner of Citadel and Lafayette was old, and despite previous renovations to the interior, there was only so much doctoring to be done to the building itself. The entire neighborhood was full of aging brick buildings and uneven streets, and it didn't see enough traffic for the city to warrant any sort of remedy on their dime. Old oak trees dotted the street, most of them having long outgrown their designated squares and their roots were cracking through the sidewalk, making walking without looking down a hazard. The whole neighborhood teetered dangerously between a sort of old world charm and plain neglect. Time would tell which side won out.

The start of the week had found Prompto texting Noct, asking what he was up to, knowing they both usually had afternoons free today. The weather wasn't quite cooperating yet, but it was warmer than it had been for weeks and the sun was out. It felt like it would be a shame not to enjoy it (though he had a feeling Noct would claim there was nothing wrong with napping through it instead). 

For once Prompto was wrong, and when Noct suggested they take a trip to the coffee shop ("yes, _that_ coffee shop"), Prompto almost dropped his phone. They could have taken the bus down to Lafayette, but it was only one stop away, and Prompto insisted that it would be a waste not to just take the extra 15 minutes and walk, and once again Noct surprised him by agreeing, making Prompto wonder what was going on that made him so amiable. He supposed he would find out soon enough, and grabbed his jacket before tucking his phone away and heading out to meet Noctis.

Windows, both long and wide were situated in the two corner walls of the coffee shop, and ivy grew rampant around them. The only indication that the place was open was a sandwich board outside, which displayed the name (currently "King's Coffee") and a list of the daily specials (it was Macchiato Monday, apparently).

Prompto followed Noct up the block and to the front entrance, trying to quell some of his excitement about the fact that he was finally going to meet the men he'd spent the last couple of years hearing stories about. He yanked open the front door, which was tall and narrow, repainted enough times that the wood was thick with it (currently a shade of dark green), and as Prompto stepped inside, the door held open in his hand violently caved in towards him, falling off it's hinges.

Prompto yelped, a pretty embarrassing high pitched sound that under normal circumstances would have made him turn red in embarrassment, but he was too busy trying to hold up the surprisingly heavy door as it did its best to crush him to death. Someone, a girl inside the shop was yelling, and then all of a sudden the weigh was off of him, as the largest man Prompto had ever seen grabbed the door from him. 

"Gladdy!" the girl was yelling again, "I thought you said you fixed it!"

"I _did_ ," Prompto's savior responded in a gruff voice, propping the door up outside the building before turning in his direction.

"Sorry kid," he said and clapped an enormous hand on Prompto's shoulder, "you alright?"

Prompto nodded, not thinking too hard about the fact that he had just been called kid by someone that towered over him and looked like he could bench press a truck. He supposed when you were that big, everyone else was kid sized in comparison. 

Things clicked into place and a name popped in his head, like this was some sort of pop quiz and he had figured out the answer- _Gladiolus Amicitia_. Nervousness shot through him. It caught him off guard, he had gotten so much better around people as he'd grown up, but now he felt like the shy and anxious kid he'd been once again. He didn't know what to say, how to introduce himself.

"Sorry about your door," he squeaked out instead, voice going high pitched with nervousness. If mortification were a cause of death, Prompto was sure he would have fallen victim. 

Noct, supportive as always, was busy laughing, "You guys trying to kill customers before they even have a chance to walk in?"

Gladio waved him aside, "Yeah, yeah, just be happy you weren't the one with the door when it fell. Your puny arms wouldn't have been able to hold it up." He ignored Noct's vehement disagreement in favor of looking Prompto up and down once more, large hand still on his shoulder. Tattoos sprawled across his arms, and long brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail. He would have been incredibly intimidating, if it weren't for warm eyes and the friendly look on his face, bouncing somewhere between mild concern and amusement. 

"Prompto, right?" Gladio said, holding his hand out for Prompto to shake. Confusion must have shown on his face because Gladio, smiling now, said, "Noct brings you up just about every time we talk. Me and Iggy were wondering when we'd finally get to meet you."

Prompto could only hope he hadn't gone pink, but he still managed to return Gladio's smile, despite his embarrassment. The two of them were best friends, they'd both told each other as much, but it was still a little bit flattering to hear that Noct had been talking about him the same way that he always got to hear him talk about Ignis and Gladio. 

"C'mon, sorry again about the door. Drinks are on me to make up for it," Gladio said, and ushered the two of them inside.

 

Gladio's sister, Iris was behind the counter when they walked in, short hair pinned back from the smile on her face, and she was wearing a black apron decorated with moogle pins. Prompto _had_ gotten the chance to meet her before, surprisingly enough. She was attending the University of Insomnia as well, though only in her freshman year. They had run into her on campus a number of times and she was always eager to say hello, her bubbly personality infectious. Even when Noct wasn't around, Iris always made a point of waving a greeting to Prompto when they passed, and he always found himself happy to see her.

Her smile faltered when she turned her eyes on Gladio, exchanging it for a look of exasperation, "I _told_ you to call someone and have it fixed properly. Your life would be so much easier if you actually listened to me sometimes, you know that?"

Gladio mumbled something back about being able to fix the door _just fine_ , as he ducked behind the counter and told Iris to stop complaining and get Prompto and Noct whatever they wanted. Along the back wall behind the counter there were two doors, one on the right, propped open and streaming afternoon sunshine into the room, and one on the left that Gladio disappeared into, presumably to grab tools to fix the door yet again.

Iris shook her head, mouth open, returning her attention to Prompto before she said, "Unbelievable. Don't feel bad about it, that's the third time it's happened since last week. Gladdy's just too stubborn to admit defeat." Already Iris was making him feel more at ease. Prompto hadn't realized how tense he was until he finally started to relax. 

Iris asked what they wanted to drink, and Prompto didn't fail to notice the distracted way Noct was scanning the few occupied tables with something that looked like disappointment on his face, only sparing a quick glance and half-smile in Iris's direction when he said, "Surprise me." Prompto only drank coffee on occasion and he told Iris as much, saying he'd take whatever she recommended. Throwing her arms in the air, Iris proclaimed them both hopeless, and set about making them both lattes, saying she wanted to practice making foam art. 

Prompto let his eyes roam around the coffee shop while she worked. The place was small. Three short booths were lined up along the front window, and there were only a handful of small round tables taking up the rest of the space. The wood floor creaked when Prompto shifted his feet and was stained a dark burgundy, and the brick walls were left bare. It still managed to be welcoming, if a little sparse, and it didn't take Prompto's eyes long to wander around the shop and back to the front counter and the display case that was situated there. It was late in the day and there were only a few things left- a chocolate orange croissant, some savory scones flecked with sun dried tomatoes and rosemary. Little placards were set on each tray to label what was what in cutesy writing. Prompto suspected Iris was to blame.

Gladio emerged from the back once more, toolbox in tow. He spent a moment supervising Iris as she attempted to make a rosetta in foam, telling her to watch her language when she swore at the failed design. She looked up at him with raised brows, saying, "Yeah, convincing coming from someone who's motherfucked every inch of this place." Gladio scowled at that, but didn't exactly argue either, and a moment later he had turned his attentions on Noct, backing off from Iris before she could call him out for something else.

"So Noct, you coming to work for us or not?" Well, this was news to Prompto. Noctis hadn't mentioned anything about getting a job. He hardly needed one, considering the fact that his family probably had more money than the Six combined. 

Noct shrugged, "I don't think so big guy, I'm pretty busy with class."

"Bullshit," Gladio said, "besides, you'd only have to come by a couple times a week. Short shifts too. Customer traffic's been all over the place since we opened, Iggy and me never know what to expect."

"Shouldn't I be, I don't know, working in an office or something. Getting the experience."

"C'mon, even the old man think's you should help out here. It'll do you some good to rub elbow with the _general public_." Noct rolled his eyes, but couldn't disagree where his father was involved. It seemed exactly the type of thing Regis would say.  

"Hey Specs!" Noct called out a greeting to the figure that had materialized in the doorway to the right, conveniently cutting his conversation with Gladio short.

Prompto stared. Sunlight illuminated him. Ignis was better dressed than anyone in the room, sleeves of his cardigan rolled up to his elbows, and an apron dusted with flower wrapped around his waist. He was smiling at Noct, saying something back to him that Prompto didn't hear. He didn't hear anything, in fact, the white noise of the room, Gladio and Iris's good natured bickering, all faded away. Over the years when Noct had spoke of his friends, Prompto tried to picture them, eventually forming half-blurred images in his head of what he thought they looked like based on their personalities.  

Ignis had never looked like this. 

He was carrying a tray of muffins to refill the display case, pale golden-brown and puffy, each topped with a thin slice of fruit. "They're honey apricot, a new recipe I've been meaning to try," he said when Iris hovered at his shoulder, and Prompto noticed the deep voice, smooth with an accent that was rare to hear in the city, a rich laugh when Iris asked if she could take the leftovers home.

It didn't take long for Noct to all but demand to try one, and Ignis acted exasperated and annoyed ( _these are for_ paying customers _, Noctis_ ), but he was smiling all the while and eventually relented, sticking a muffin on a plate and shoving it over the counter in Noct's direction before turning his gaze on Prompto. Pale green eyes met his, friendly and clear, and Ignis asked, "Would you like to try one?"

The room felt a little bit too warm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (consider this my formal apology for making everyone in my blade runner au so miserable all the time)
> 
> i went to a very small oddball private art school so if any of the College Experience™ seems off that's why lmao i'm sorry i tried  
>    
> also throwback to when i worked at the school store and the door fell off the hinges but because we were in a 'historic building' we couldn't use outside materials to fix it (???? i know) so the staff had to figure out some way to mcgyver it back into place it was wild


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hoooooooooooly goddamn fucking shit it's the fic that time forgot with an update. pinch yourself you're not dreaming. 
> 
> I'M SORRY. I did not mean to let this happen. would you believe that I've been looking at this every other day since I posted ch 1, trying, TRYING, to get my shit together? I wrote. and wrote and wrote and wrote and it was all out of order and this chapter was an uninspired disconnected mess and finally i deleted everything (i mean everything) and started fresh. and here we are. chapter outlines went out the window as well so no idea if i'm gonna stick to 4 chapters or not. it'll be a surprise.  
> but i come bearing gifts!!
> 
> first off, [flykiwifly](https://flykiwifly.tumblr.com/) made art for this fic (!!!?!??!!!???!?!!) which I have been screaming about nonstop because it's so freakin cute and I still can't believe it's based off something i wrote. check it out [here](https://flykiwifly.tumblr.com/post/162221060038/scene-from-sugar-coated-by-notthelasttime-i) & say hi to kiwi (who is a sweetie) while ur there
> 
> I've also got a playlist going over on spotify, which can be found [here](https://open.spotify.com/user/notthelasttime/playlist/1KU1OfoHjhYDdhm2L3APXS)  
> some warm weather music and songs about love  
> this is mostly a transitional chapter (which is why I think I struggled so goddamn much with it) but I tried to keep it entertaining?? jesus christ I hope it’s entertaining??? well I wanted it to be longer but it’s roughly 6k of ‘i’m sorry this took so fucking long’ please enjoy ;_;

Prompto was surreptitiously flicking crumbs in Noct’s direction, trying to see how many he could get into the little pocket of space between the spine of his open textbook and the table. He wondered how long it would take Noct to notice, or if he was doomed to stay oblivious until he was buried in a pile of crumbs. Noct wasn’t studying any harder than Prompto was, eyes glassy and unmoving as he stared down at the wall of text underneath him, but at least he was pretending to do something. Prompto couldn’t even manage that much.   
  
That was always the problem with cramming; as soon as Prompto tried to sit down and get to work it seem like doing just about anything else, no matter how inane, was more appealing.   
  
It was probably a good thing Prompt had left his laptop at home, otherwise he would have just been working on photo edits instead, nevermind the fact that he’d already put more time into prepping for his photography midterm than he had for all of his other classes combined. The whole point of them coming here was so they could concentrate and finally get some work done. Prompto flicked another crumb in Noct's direction.   
  
“Gladio, have you ordered more lids yet?” Ah yes, and there was his other source of distraction. Why Prompto thought he’d ever be able to focus in the coffee shop was beyond him, but when Noct had suggested they study there he’d jumped at the chance to go back, all the while trying not to seem _too_ eager. It’d been weeks since their first visit, and Prompto hadn’t worked up the courage to go back on his own – and _not_ just because of his tiny little spark of a crush on Ignis. 

….Ok, not _just_ because of his crush on Ignis.

But Ignis was just so _nice_ , and had given Prompto his full attention every time he spoke, even if it was just to chime in with a stupid joke or make fun of Noct. When the two of them left Ignis wouldn’t let them out the door without first filling boxes with whatever pastries he’d still had on hand, and when he smiled at Prompto it made his heart beat double time. It didn’t stop him from feeling like he was just being shallow though. It wasn’t like he really _knew_ Ignis, and he worried that this was all just some kind of superficial attraction based crush born out of an idealized mental image painted from snippets of personality learned from Noct.  
  
The shop was a ghost town, (the current moniker was “Insomnia Coffee and Bakery,” _bo-ring_ , in Prompto’s honest opinion), blustery wind, and heavy clouds keeping people inside. The sky had been looking like it was about to open up at any moment, and while it wasn’t terribly cold, after a string of warm days the weather felt especially cruel. The result of which was the shop feeling that much cozier ….though maybe there was something else making Prompto’s face hot.

Gladio was going over inventory in back, while Ignis was managing the front, and Prompto was busy pretending he wasn’t secretly happy about that fact, watching Ignis work out of the corner of his eye. They’d barley sat down before Ignis came over with a plate piled high with buttermilk teacakes and thick slices of a lemon and rosemary loaf. Noct’s eyes had lit up, probably half excited just by the fact that he hadn’t even had to beg for free food, and Ignis, looking defeated had muttered, “eat as much as you want, for the love of the Six we’ve been so slow.” He was wearing a cardigan, black and grey with streaks of green that reflected the shade of his eyes ( _not_ that Prompto had been waxing poetic about his eyes), and as Ignis walked back to the counter to start wiping it down for probably the hundredth time, it was hard not to watch the way the muscles of his back moved under the fabric ( _not_ that Prompto was thinking about what his back looked like under his shirt).  
  
It was weird, wasn’t it? Having a crush on your best bud’s childhood friend, who you’d only spent maybe all of an hour with? Prompto had never been the best judge of those kinds of things, always a little off-beat, particularly when it came to dealing with other people - _especially_ new people. Maybe it was childhood isolation, never having too many friends, or maybe he just ticked different. A reassuring high school art teacher had always said there’s nothing wrong with being a little weird, that most artists were and that’s what gave them the perspective needed to make art out of what others couldn’t see. It was a nice thought. One that didn’t really seem to apply to feeling so fucking strange when you were trying to get to know someone. Noct knew his quirks, knew he wasn’t all restlessness and goofy jokes, but that was Noct, and Noct was different, a little bit isolated and awkward himself.  
  
Prompto was saved from his own thoughts as the door swung open, accompanied by a bark.

Now it was his turn to light up, watching as two dogs, one light, one dark, tangled themselves in their leashes at some poor girls’ feet, baby blue tennis shoes doing their best not to step on any paws. She was windswept, face pink and hair tousled, wearing an oversized grey sweater to combat the chill outside, and she huffed when both dogs bounded forward, leashes straining, their tails wagging when they spotted Ignis.

“Pryna! Umbra, Pryna, knock it off!” her voice got stern when they started jumping at Ignis’s legs, but he just laughed and kneeled down to say hello.

Prompto was smiling himself, trying to figure out the best way to sneak over and say hi without crashing the moment, but when he stopped to shoot a look at Noct, sure that he’d be excited about Umbra and Pryna as well, he caught Noct staring at something- some _one_ else.

The dopey dreamlike expression on his face would have been funny if Prompto wasn’t so busy with a dawning realization, and Noct stuck his chin in his hand and sighed, like he was some kind of romantic lead in a period novel, creating the absolute perfect image of longing, entirely oblivious that Prompto was watching him.

“The usual?” Ignis asked her, and she nodded, and Prompto found his eyes bouncing back and forth between Noct and the register, trying to figure out just what this whole thing was.

“To-go, today please,” she said, and her accent was reminiscent of Ignis’s. “I can’t stay, but I had to get out for a bit, and I thought a walk might do these two some good,” she looked at the dogs at her feet, both calmer than when she’d walked in, dark one sitting by her feet, the white one sniffing the legs of a nearby table.

Ignis made her drink while they made small talk (she’d been working on her thesis and needed a break, apparently) and sent her on her way with a pastry bag stuffed with teacakes. She’d tried to decline, but he gave her a dead look and said, “I was trying to perfect the recipe, and now we’re drowning in them. Please, I don’t think I want to see another one of these for a very long time.”

She’d laughed and relented, turning to leave, and while Prompto did his best to look like he hadn’t just been staring, Noct awkwardly gaped on, so that as the girl came to the door she caught his eye, gave him a shy smile and a little wave before she walked out. Prompto couldn’t help but notice the way Noct watched her out the window as she passed by and continued down the street.

 _Oh, oh buddy how long has this been going on?_ His frequent trips to the coffee shop suddenly seemed suspect. Had he been trying to catch a glimpse of the mystery girl while working up the courage to say something, rather than a sudden craving for caffeine? Prompto may have been weird with people but he’d at least forced himself past his shyness, but Noct… Noct could be timid, withdrawn. He was ok once he got to know someone, but his own strangeupbringing as the isolated son of a business mogul had left him a little closed off. And Prompto didn’t know if Noct could work up the courage to say something, or if he was doomed to gaze on restlessly watching her pass, never giving himself a chance.

_What are we gonna do about you?_

Prompto’s eyes shifted back over to Ignis, who was polishing the display case, looking far too serious and determined for such a boring task, but it was endearing. Prompto kind of like that perfectionism, admired it, really, when he himself was such the opposite.

He bit the inside of his cheek. He really wasn’t much better off than Noct.

  


  


  


  


  


Prompto always got the feeling Noctis had resigned himself to his fate of taking over Caelum Industries. Though that didn’t stop him from dragging his feet every step of the way, plodding forward and avoiding anything even remotely work related when he could. Even his choice of major was hardly something that would do him good in the business world, but his father had wanted him to have a college education and let Noct choose to study whatever he wanted, like he was trying to give his son as much choice and freedom as he could before he was shoehorned into his career.

Which was why it was such a surprise when Noct brought it up.

Friday night after classes, and Prompto had wandered over to Noct’s apartment as he usually did, already assuming he was probably going to spend the night. Midterms had ended that week and it was a feeling of sweet relief that he wouldn’t have to spend the weekend cramming. Anxiety about how he’d done on papers and tests could wait until Sunday at least.

He was a little disappointed that there wasn’t a box or bag of sweets from Ignis waiting in the apartment.

“So you uh, still thinking about finding another job?” Noct had asked him, feigning nonchalance but Prompto knew him better than that.

“Sure am.” He’d had a job at an electronics shop for all of first semester, shit wages, but it helped, though after a certain point it had gotten to be too much. His boss couldn’t seem to understand what _I can’t work this many hours or I’m going to lose my scholarship and flunk out_ meant, despite his repeated requests. So Prompto had quit. Money had been tight without it, but he wasn’t about to risk his shot at graduating for some garbage part time job. Though finding something to replace it had been more difficult than he’d imagined.

“So uh… Gladio and Ignis need people at the coffee shop. Thought I might take them up on it. I mean – because of my dad, you know? But I thought since you were looking, maybe…” Noct shrugged, “Well it’d be a lot more fun if you were there. If you wanted- no pressure if you don’t.”

It was almost kind of sweet, and Prompto was half tempted to call him out on the real reason he was accepting the job offer, but he knew Noct asking him wasn’t all just bullshit.

It was tempting. He needed a job, as much as the extra free time had been kind of amazing, but he didn’t know what the hours or wages would be, didn’t know what to expect working for his friend’s friends. Still...

He’d be working with Noct.

He knew fuck all about making coffee _and_ he’d have to deal with annoying caffeine-deprived customers (even worse than your regular run of the mill demon spawn customer).

….Ignis would be there. And while part of his initial reaction to realizing he had a little bit of a teeny tiny crush was to _AVOID_ , he’d also been trying to meet the guy for years, had heard stories about him from Noct, had always kind of wanted to be friends with him, Gladio too. This would give him the opportunity to get to know them. But on the flip side, was a work relationship the best place to do that? What if they hated each other and made everything weird, for Noct, especially, who would surely be caught in the middle. It felt like the good outweighed the bad, and the chances of that kind of outcome were slim, but Prompto wasn’t about to rush in and make a stupid decision. At least, he didn’t want to.

“Lemme think about it,” he said instead of accepting, and maybe it was just his imagination but he thought he saw Noct deflate a little. “You know how many hours they want us to work?”

Noct shrugged again, “They said business has been all over the place so I don’t know. But I know them Prom, they’re not gonna pull the same kind of bullshit as your last boss, I promise. They know what they’re doing, they were all set up to be higher ups for my dad for fucks sake, they’re not gonna stiff you, I promise” he paused a minute, looking mischievous, “besides, they know I’ll give them shit if they do anything wrong.”

“I believe you man, I just gotta think about it.”

“Ignis will probably give you free food,” Noct said it with a smirk like he thought he knew that was going to win Prompto over.

“Yeah, and then I’ll have to run twice as far as I already do, _no thank you_.”

“Please! Like you haven’t been all over every bag of pastries I’ve brought home. Come on, you’ve been wanting to meet them forever. Now’s your chance to get to know them.” Of course Noct would follow the exact same line of thought that he had.

And Prompto, feeling brave, couldn’t help but poke.

“And about that blonde girl that was in the coffee shop the other day?”

He felt Noct go still next to him before he answered, “Uh, yeah? What about her?”

“Noct I’m not stupid. Or blind,” he said and heard Noctis sigh next to him. “Is that… you want to meet her, right?”

And with that Noct covered his face with his hands, embarrassed, and while part of Prompto felt kind of bad for brining it up, part of him knew it had to come out at some point, and sooner was better than later. It was a minute before he got an answer though.

“I don’t even know her name,” he spoke quietly, like the secret might get out, like there was someone there to overhear, and Prompto felt a little surge of affection, a little bit of sympathy knowing what it felt like to feel invisible to someone when you just wanted them to see you.

“A name, huh? Well… we can find that out easy enough.”

“Wait, _we?_ Does that mean you’ll-”

“Yep. Besides, the name part’s easy. Worry about trying to convince her to go on a date with _you._ ”

“Shut up,” Noct shoved his shoulder, and with his face uncovered Prompto thought he might have looked a little pink, but he was smiling, and things fell back into place as they should be.

  


  


  


  


  


  


_I gave him your number – that’s ok right?_

Prompto was laying flat on his bed, staring at the screen of his phone wondering what he’d gotten himself in to. He felt more than a little stupid for being so nervous. It was just a phone call. A phone call with his possible future employer. His very handsome future employer who happened to be the most talented baker Prompto ever had the fortune to come across.

It would be fine. Totally fine. No pressure, nothing to worry about.

He dropped his phone on his face when it started ringing.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Prompto? This is Ignis. I hope it’s alright that I asked Noctis for your number.”

 _Here we go._ How the hell did Ignis manage to sound so charismatic even over the phone? The accent, it had to be the accent.

“Oh, uh, yeah, of course. What’s up?”

_don’t say something stupid don’t say something stupid don’t say something stupid_

“I was happy to hear you might be interested in coming to work for us, though I know how vague Noct tends to be on details. I thought it best to talk things over with you directly, if you have some time.”

_don’tsaysomethingstupiddon’tsaysomethingstupiddon’tsaysomethingstupiddon’tsaysomethingstupid_

“Sure, uh, now works. But I gotta give you a heads up, I don’t know anything about making coffee.” Fuck, should he have said that? This was like an interview right, wasn’t he supposed to be talking himself up? He had never been very good at that.

Ignis just laughed on the other end of the line, “Not to worry, that’s something we can teach you. Noct said you had customer service experience though, correct?”

“Yeah, I guess,” if sitting behind a register and being polite while customers told you you were doing everything wrong, fuck yeah he had customer service experience. “Look I don’t wanna… I mean I know you guys are just starting out and schedules are gonna be tough, but I had some issues with my last job, and I just want to make sure I’m not going to get stuck working double shifts on my days off, or that I’m going to keep getting called in last minute, you know?” _Fuck fuck fuck fuck_ , he was rambling. “Not that I don’t want to work! Like I kinda need the money, pretty bad actually-” he probably shouldn’t have said that, _shit_ “-and just because I’m Noct’s friend I don’t think I can just come in and goof off, you know? But I just-”

“ _Prompto_ ,” gentle, but firm.

“Yeah?”

“ _Don’t worry._ We can work around your class schedule. Noctis mentioned some of your complaints from your former job. You’re doing us a favor by coming in, we don’t intend to take advantage. It’s alright. And if you start work and it becomes too much to handle on top of classwork and you need to quit, that’s alright too.”

How? How could some guy he barely even knew be so godsdamned nice, using that calm and soothing tone of voice meant to reassure, and damnit if it wasn’t just working on him. Prompto felt his face flush and he was glad Ignis wasn’t there to see it, embarrassed by his outburst, and the fact that Ignis had to talk him out of it. He took a deep breath.

“Now, would you be able to send me a copy of your class schedule?”

Prompto kept his worries in check for the rest of the conversation, and Ignis kept his tone light, asking a few prodding questions about how many hours he thought he could work, and gave him an hourly wage (considerably higher than most part time service jobs, and Prompto had to hold back a sigh of relief). There were a few general personal questions as well, when Ignis mentioned that Noct said he was majoring in photography, or that he commuted from home. Safe topics. Friendly topics. But unfailingly polite and considerate, and more and more Prompto was thinking working at the coffee shop wouldn’t be so intimidating after all.

“I am glad we’ve finally got to meet,” Ignis said when the conversation started tapering off, “Noct always speaks highly of you. I’m looking forward to getting to know you better.” And the way he said it sounded like he meant it, like Prompto was actually someone worth getting to know.

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Cappuccino!” Iris fired off, complete with finger guns, watching Noct and Prompto stand side by side in matching aprons, waiting to see who would figure it out first.

Right _. Coffee grinder,_ _fill the basket then_ _level the grounds, use the tamper to compress, pull the shot of coffee,_ _steam the milk, keep the tip of the wand right at the surface to get the right texture first, when it’s done, tap the pitcher on the counter, give it a swirl to polish it, and combine it with the coffee_. He kept track of the steps in his head, going through memorized motions, preparing a drink he’d watched Iris, Gladio and Ignis make half a dozen times each, all explaining the process in their own way. Noct trailed behind him trying to get a glimpse at what he was doing and copy it himself, all while Iris watched on, ever critical. Foam art was still beyond him. Prompto would just be happy with a decent tasting drink.

A few minutes later two cappuccino’s sat on the back counter, one from each of them. Iris looked them both over nodding her head, and after she took a sip of Prompto’s he saw a little smile that she was trying to hold back, keeping up the appearance of a supposedly hard-ass trainer. Which she was not.

Iris licked her lips and took another sip, “I think you’re finally getting the hang of this.”

  


  


  


“ _Here_ ,” Prompto said as he set a mug down on the desk with maybe a little bit more force than necessary, making Gladio look up at him with raised eyebrows. The back office was a cramped and cluttered space, just one tiny little dusty window in the back of the room. Ignis and Gladio were still getting organized and papers and binders and boxes were strewn everywhere while they tried to figure out what should go where. There was a big black safe behind the desk for the nightly deposit, and a couple of filing cabinets along the side of the room that seemed to perpetually have all their drawers pulled open. Mostly when Prompto saw Ignis go into the back it was followed by the sounds of him tutting and telling Gladio he _really ought to get this mess taken care of_ (to which Gladio usually replied, _worry about you_ _r_ _damn cupcakes_ ).

“Honey vanilla latte,” Prompto said, gesturing at the mug and trying not to look too pleased with himself. _He_ thought most of the drinks he’d been churning out in his last couple of shifts tasted pretty good, and even though Iris said so too, he was pretty sure she couldn’t be trusted to give him the hard truth.

He’d been at it for a week and a half, starting shortly after his phone call with Ignis. Him and Noct had been working short 3-4 hour shifts together when they both had free time, scheduled together to make training easier. And while Noct was _maybe_ a little lacking when it came to making drinks, they were both starting to get a feel for things, and Prompto had a feeling the training wheels were going to come off soon. Still, Gladio and Ignis were pretty serious about their coffee, and they weren’t going to let him start actually making drinks for customers until he earned it.

Gladio took a sip, and Prompto watched his expression maybe a little too close, curious what he might see there.

Surprise. He looked a little surprised and then… _pleased_. “Not bad, blondie,” Gladio said and Prompto couldn’t even find it in himself to be irritated at the nickname.

“Yeah? You mean it?”

Gladio nodded, leaning back in his chair, mug still clutched in his hand, “Not bad at all.”

  


  


  


  


Prompto took a breath before sticking his head back into the kitchen, hands wrapped tight around another mug, this time a double shot espresso macchiato. They’d hit a mid-morning lull, after a steady couple of hours after opening, and Prompto had taken the opportunity to practice making more drinks. Mostly he was still stuck on register when customers came in, unless they ordered something easy, though he was pretty sure Gladio was about to release him from limited duty. The latte had certainly seemed to help. But getting Ignis’s seal of approval, well… that would help more.

It was actually kind of funny. He’d been so intimidated, so worried his dumb little crush on Ignis was going to make things awkward, and yet he was the one person that Prompto hardly saw. Ignis usually came in at some bogus ungodly hour in the asscrack of the morning to get a head start on baking before the morning rush, which meant a lot of times he was gone by the time Prompto came in after class, or else he was usually trapped back in the kitchen while Prompto was out front.

That hadn’t stopped Prompto from thoroughly getting to know Ignis through his baked goods though, as he jumped at the chance to try just about anything that appeared in the display cases. Ignis mostly stuck to sweet rather than savory, a mix of quick breads in the morning and desserts in the afternoon, but just about everything he made seemed to come damn close to perfection. Even weird flavor combinations that shouldn’t have worked – when Iris had shoved a giant cookie in his hands at the start of his shift and told him it was salted thyme and dark chocolate he’d probably looked at her like she’d grown a second head when he asked with skepticism, _Ignis made this?_ He should have known better though because it was probably the best fucking chocolate chip cookie he’d ever had. Supposedly Noct had been on his case about starting to make cinnamon rolls on the weekends for the morning rush, and from what Prompto knew of their relationship it was really only a matter of time before Ignis gave in.

Ignis liked using seasonal fruits, and they’d been inundated with all manner of sweets containing strawberry, rhubarb, and apricot (lemon and lavender often thrown in for good measure). Not that Prompto was complaining, but he perked up at the smell of something chocolate coming from in back.

Well, it was now or never. He couldn’t exactly hope to bribe Ignis with cold coffee.

The kitchen was narrow and long, ending in a door that led out to the back alley. The building itself was beat up, but the appliances were new and kept spotless, all white and stainless steel, long countertops lining each side of the room to give as much space to work as the room would allow. Ignis was bent over the far counter, his back to the door, making notes in the little black recipe book he carried around while waiting for something in the oven, judging by the timer next to him. Prompto cleared his throat.

There was no hesitation in his smile when Ignis looked over his shoulder, and Prompto smiled back, “I got something for you.”

“I heard you’d been making the rounds,” Ignis said, grabbing the outstretched mug and Prompto was definitely _not_ going to think about how their fingers touched, “trying to butter us up?”

Prompto laughed, “Something like that. Maybe more like prove myself? Not gonna lie I’m getting a little tired of register duty.”

“Can’t say I blame you. And I won’t pretend I don’t prefer it back here rather than out front. One of the perks of working with Gladio I suppose, he doesn’t mind mingling with customers.”

“Yeah, I get the feeling he could probably chat up a brick wall,” this time Ignis laughed.

“You’re not wrong in that assertion. Now then – let’s see how you did,” he said, and held up Prompto’s macchiato, looking at it with a critical eye before he took a sip.

Prompto did _not_ let his eyes dart down to stare at his mouth when Ignis licked the coffee from his lips with a very pink tongue.

“Tired of register duty, you say?” Ignis looked at him with a satisfied little smile, half hidden behind the rim of his mug.

  


 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

Prompto shifted the weight on his feet, screwing up his courage before he knocked 3 times on the door in front of him. A moment later a stern voice responded from the other side.

“ _Come in_.”

Professor Cor Leonis looked like he had stumbled on campus one day and accidentally left with a job. How he had managed to become the head of the fine arts department was anyone’s guess, though the University seemed to love touting the fact that he was still a working artist on top of teaching. His roster was usually limited to advanced classes for upperclassmen, specializing in interdisciplinary sculpture, but due to a faculty shortage in the department, he’d wound up teaching Introduction to Visual Thinking, a general requirement for all students going into the arts. Good luck had found Prompto as one of his students his freshman year, and afterwards he’d jumped at the chance to enroll in Cor’s classes whenever he could.

 _A_ _ll of this, it’s all bullshit_ , Cor had said on more than one occasion during a class critique, gesturing towards whatever work was hanging on the wall, _your art is ahead of you. You won’t know what it’s about until years later._ _Stop trying to over explain it, it’s all bullshit._ He respected hard work, whether the final product could be considered a success or not, but did not put up with unmotivated students. He was a hardass, but a fair one, and students liked him, even considering the fact that he never smiled and seemed to perpetually be in a bad mood. He was the kind of Professor that made students use his first name, claimed textbooks weren’t worth the money, and called out artistic pretentiousness when he saw it. Part of his charm may have had to do with an old video still kicking around on the internet of the first performance piece that had gained him attention as an artist. Years ago, looking childish and scrawny compared with the Cor they were all familiar with, he had put together a massive wooden sculpture of Gilgamesh and installed it in Insomnia’s central park. The performance consisted of him climbing up the towering thing, before he started ripping Gilgamesh’s arms off. Apparently he’d meant to light fire to it as well, but before he could, his performance had been considered a public disturbance and he was escorted from the park by city officers. Only someone with a death wish would bring up that particular piece, but Cor had shown them images of some of his current ongoing projects in class. Prompto had been particularly taken by his installation in Niflheim, an open snowy field covered in almost a hundred ice sculptures of Shiva. He’d still been adding to their numbers at the time, and it seemed that he planned to keep going for as long as he could before the elements took them apart. Sculpture was different from photography in so many ways, but Cor had a keen eye and had given Prompto some of the best advice he’d ever gotten, even two years later. It was why he was coming to Cor for help now.

“Prompto, sit down,” Cor said, same stern expression on his face that he always wore, “what can I help you with?”

It was a bit of an odd visit, considering the fact that Prompto wasn’t in any of his classes this semester, and he was a little nervous that he might get turned down.

“Well… I know it’s pretty early for this, and it’s kind of an odd request, considering, but I was wondering if you’d consider being my thesis mentor?”

The art department was small enough so that seniors were usually lumped together in studio thesis classes with no regard to majors, offering work time rather than guidance. Students were encouraged to find a Professor willing to be a one on one mentor to help, before they found themselves at the end of the year with a mess for a body of work and no one to help them sort it out.

Cor leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, looking curious, “I’m not in photography.”

“I know that, and I know it’s out of the ordinary.”

“So why are you asking?”

“You’ve given me some of the best crits I’ve had here. And I know you’re not going to hold back if I’m slacking. I know asking you is kind of a shot in the dark but well… I thought if I asked early enough, even if you said no I’d still have time to figure something else out.”

Cor considered his words, steel gaze hitting Prompto hard like he was trying to determine the truth of it. “Have you thought about the body of work you’d like to create yet?”

“Uh, a little. I don’t really have any set ideas...”

“You still have my email?” Prompto nodded. “Well, as you said it’s still fairly early. I don’t imagine you’ll have a clear idea of what you want to work on before the end of this semester. Think about it over the summer, and email me any ideas you might have. We can talk them over.”

“Sooo… that’s a yes?”

The corner of Cor’s mouth twitched like he was trying not to smile, “Yes, Prompto, that’s a yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you: so uh... so what IS caelum industries exactly, like what do they DO  
> me: ehhh...... you know.... [vague gesturing] .... business
> 
> speaking of questionable business, logistically would iggy and gladio have been able to open up shop without an official name? PROBABLY NOT but this is fic and i'm worried about secret crushes and sweet sweet bakery treats. logic need not apply.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i guess this is going to be the fic that i can only manage to update once every 9 months and i'm just going to have to live with that

As far as bad days went, this was shaping up to be one of the worst. 

Nerves had gotten the better of him. It was bound to happen eventually, and not just because it was a new job where he was still learning how things worked, didn't have the basis of knowledge to be confident enough when someone started giving him shit. The right customer on the wrong day and it was so easy for everything to go straight to hell. 

It was the weekend before finals and Prompto hadn't been sleeping, too much stress, too much work, and not enough time or money for him to subsist on much more than an overdose of caffeine and the miscellaneous pastry bags he kept snagging from work. It was hard to believe the time had even passed so quickly, the end of the semester sneaking up on him before he'd had time to prepare, and as much as he was looking forward to summer break, his immediate future was was filled with one objective only- _survive_. 

So maybe part of the fiasco was his fault. But definitely only part of it, a very small fucking part.

Saturday morning, and the minute the doors had opened the shop had been a madhouse, a sudden rush of customers coming in unrelenting waves, and Prompto and Iris had been scrambling to keep up. Ignis had been trying to help out up front as much as possible, but there was only so much he could do when the kitchen was his top priority, even more so with the display case becoming sadly depleted, customers smudging the glass while the poked with dirty fingers looking at the empty trays and asking, _don't you have any more of those?_ Gladio had come in early after a harried called from Ignis, but his presence was only helpful temporarily until he got stuck on a business phone call in the back office. It was no small wonder that when Noctis finally ambled in at noon, Iris had torn off her apron and made for the back door in a flash before any other customers had a chance to corner her with idiotic questions, muttering  _get me the flying fuck out of here_ as she left.

One cranky customer was all it took.

Prompto had been hanging in there and making it work, not practiced enough to move as fast as Iris but he was handling it, even with only himself and Noct on the floor. At least until the first fuck up. 

The customer in question was a middle aged woman with greying greying hair, loudly complaining about the state of the cafe while waiting in line; _there isn't much space here, is there? Those seats don't look terribly comfortable, they could use a decorator. What's taking so long? That food doesn't look very good, I think_ they'd _have to pay_ me _if they wanted me to eat here_. She proceeded to then yell at Noctis for slouching, tell him she didn't want him touching her drink with his dirty hands, and then changed her order three times and started walking away from the register mid-sentence before she had finished paying. 

And then Prompto had to go and fuck up her drink.

He wasn't sure if it was her fault or his, if he'd actually gotten it wrong or if she had just changed her mind while she was waiting _again_ , or forgotten what she's ordered in the first place. That should have been the end of it, but when Prompto had remade her drink he was too on edge from the first mistake (and her piss poor attitude) and he'd fucked that one up too, had to watch as she'd taken an exaggerating sip of it right in front of him, before making a disgusted face and thrusting the cup back at him, telling him it was _wrong, wrong, wrong_.

Gladio came out of the back room when she started yelling. 

"I'm sorry ma'am, what seems to be the problem?" he'd said in his best customer-schmoozing voice, firmly nudging Prompto out of his way as the woman continued pointing errant fingers in everyone's faces if they dared walk near her vicinity. "I'd be more than happy to make you another drink," Gladio offered once he'd gotten the gist of what was happening while she continued screeching about awful service and calling the better business bureau and telling her friends to never, ever come here. He'd turned to make her coffee and nearly crashed into a hovering Prompto in the process.  

"Prompto,  _move_." Gladio wasn't yelling at him, not exactly, but the irritation in his voice was evident and it was hard not to feel like he was being scolded for bad behavior. It was hard not to feel like a failure. 

He tried to busy himself and help with Noct's orders with trembling fingers, knowing he was overreacting, knowing he was just exhausted and stressed and that this woman was out of her godsdamned mind, but fuck him if he didn't just about feel like crying. It was hard not to get upset about someone shrieking in your face, even if you knew you didn't rightly deserve it. He thought Gladio would smooth things over and get the ridiculous woman out of the shop, but he didn't quite make it that far.

"You're in my way."

The voice wasn't raised, but commanding enough to put a stop to the woman's tirade, long enough for her to do a double take at the new customer standing behind her, her face faltering and Prompto could see the exact moment where she changed her mind, going from ready to start a new attack on someone else, straight to something close to fear, clearly intimidated. 

The newcomer was a tall woman with black hair, long and straight and blunt bangs covering her forehead. She was wearing a designer suit, all black, and towering over everyone in pointed black stilettos, skinny heels so pointed they could probably be used as weapons. 

"Move," she said, and the tirading woman moved on command, out of the way of the register. "One black coffee please, large," she said in an accent he couldn't recognize, and Prompto heard the click of Noct's teeth when he abruptly shut his mouth, the tense quiet of the cafe suddenly overwhelming. 

"The nerve of some people..." the bitchy customer muttered, immediately backing down as soon as the woman with black hair leveled her with a glare, crossing her arms and tapping her toe on the wooden floor. "Keep the drink," she'd then hissed at Gladio's back, mumbling insults at everyone and everything as she proceeded to rush out the door, resulting in what felt like a collective sigh from everyone in the room. 

"Thanks, Gentiana," Gladio said, turning around and looking at the woman with a combination of respect and relief, a regular enough customer that Gladio was on a first name basis wither her, though he still seemed to regard her with some level of awe, not so familiar with each other as to be considered friends.  

"Some people of this world never learned to mind manners," she said, making the comment seem cryptic, and shoved a wad of bills into the tip jar when Noctis gave her her change. Prompto passed her black coffee over the counter, and she captured his wrist in a strong grip before he had a chance to retreat, fingernails filed to points and painted with a black lacquer. "Don't let them smell fear on you," she said, her parting comment before turning to leave, dark hair swinging down her back as she walked out the door, and the three of them, dazed, started and watched her go. 

Prompto let out a slow, measured breath. 

Finally there was a lull, no line at the register, no drinks to be made, but Prompto's adrenaline was still high, heart still pounding too fast after the encounter with the customer from hell, and he thought if Gladio tried to talk to him now and tell him how many things he did wrong while handling the situation there was a good chance that overexertion was going to make him start crying on the spot. Nothing could quiet tear him down so fast as feelings on inadequacy, and Gladio had made it pretty clear that he wasn't happy with what went down.

"I'm gonna take five," he mumbled before making a break for the back door, resolutely not letting himself look at Ignis as he passed through the kitchen and pushed out the back door into the alley where the sun was still shining bright. A quiet little hideaway of brick and ivy, the sunshine reflecting green through the overgrown plants making the cramped space feel lush, making a good place to escape to if you didn't mind the close proximity to the garbage overflowing from the nearby dumpster. 

Prompto half expected someone to follow him out. He counted to 30, then 60, the 90. Nothing. Good. He needed peace and quiet after the mess that has been the entirety of his morning, and he rubbed both hands down over the length of his face. 

Almost 10 minutes later and Prompto was still there trying to calm down, idly tapping the toe of his boot on the asphalt and wondering what the best way was to avoid some kind of one-on-one sit down with his _manager_ \- that's when the door swung open.

It was Ignis, blinking in the sunshine and taking his time stepping out, like he'd just needed a break himself, no ulterior motive. He walked slowly over to Prompto, leaned up against the wall with a kind of nonchalance that only he could pull off, pretending like his coming here had nothing to do with Prompto. If Ignis had been sent out here by the others to try and disarm him, it was unfortunately working.

"Everything alright?" he asked after a few moment's silence, and even that was casual, normal, not that  _special_  tone of voice people liked to use when they knew you were upset. That kind of care and considerations, well it only served to make things worse, frazzled as Prompto was, and he let out a sigh, stared resolutely at the ground. Sometimes kindness is that final push, the thing that set us over the edge of near breakdown.

Gods he needed to fucking sleep. His brain was acting like the world was ending. 

"That customer certainly sounded like a piece of work," Ignis continued when it became apparent that Prompto didn't intend on answering, his tone light and his gaze flitting down the alley instead of staring Prompto down, uncomfortably disarming how relaxed Ignis could make him feel, how he knew just how to show that he hadn't come out here to put Prompto on the spot. "I'm sorry you had to deal with her," he continued on, "one of us should have been out there sooner. It shouldn't have been just you and Noctis out front in the first place, but this day has been a bit of a mess, hasn't it?" Prompto could see Ignis looking at him then, a small smile on his face like it was all fine... It was all fine and Prompto hadn't screwed everything up.

"Sorry," he said, finally looking at Ignis straight, and the smile tugged down.

"Whatever for?"

"It was my fault. I messed up her drink."

"Prompto, I could hear her shrieking from the kitchen, I'm sure even if you _had_ made a minor mistake, her reaction was unwarranted."

"No, but I just made everything _worse_."

Ignis reached an arm out then, hesitating for a moment briefly Prompto thought Ignis was going to pull him into a hug.

Instead his hand settled on Prompto's shoulder with a reassuring grip, a slight squeeze, the warmth of it reaching Prompto through the fabric of his shirt.

Honestly the hug wouldn't have been bad either. It would have been nice to lean against him, feel the warmth of the rest of his body wrap around Prompto, heat like the lat spring sun that was beating down on them both. He'd like to feel those arms around him, rest his head against the plane of Ignis's chest, just under the crook of his neck listening for a heartbeat. It was funny, how growing up with so little touch, so little contact from his lack of family had affected him. He didn't realize just how much he craved it until someone else was close. So different from Noct who was the exact opposite, getting twitchy any time someone got to close. Sometimes Prompto could break some of the unspoken rules, a head resting on his shoulder when they were both worn out, or throwing the occasional wayward arm around his shoulders. They understood each other, knew the other's differences. But with Noct as he was and such a short list of friends, there really wasn't anyone around that Prompto had physical contact with regularly. 

Still, a firm grip on his shoulder would do. It was the kind of gesture friends made, a gesture of support. Sometimes he forgot how long Ignis's fingers were, acutely aware of them now and how much space they were spread over. He had watched Ignis bake bread with those hands, knead dough and twist designs into pastries and slice fruit with precision. He liked those hands. Liked them better when they were touching him. 

"Gladio's pissed at me," an admission, said with resignation. 

"I can almost guarantee you, he is not," Ignis said, and when his hand slipped gently off Prompto's shoulder he had to fight the temptation to grab it and put it back. 

Prompto shook his head, "You didn't see him, he wasn't happy. I mean, like there were customers there so he had to keep it professional, but he kept pushing me out of the way."

"Gladio can come off as harsh if he's upset, and if anything I believe he was upset with the customer and not you. Just talk to him, before you leave, will you?" Prompto shrugged, felt himself avoiding looking at Ignis again right up until he felt another squeeze on his shoulder, and Ignis giving him a gentle look that made his chest flutter. "I promise you, clear the air and things will be okay."

 

 

_For Ignis_. 

Prompto knocked on the half-open office door, announcing his presence. The rest of the day had thankfully been calm and Prompto had been able to ride out the rest of his shift without incident. They'd given him and Noct final's week off too, and he was cheered by the thought of being able to take a break from things, coming back after he'd gotten a decent amount of sleep and didn't have to worry about all the studying he wasn't doing while trying to earn a paycheck. 

Just... one thing left to do before he left.

_Clear the air_.

Gladio was back in the office, taking a quick break while there was another lull before he got trapped out front for the rest of the night.

"Come in."

Prompto ducked his head in, all ready to start things off with an apology and then maybe he could skedaddle without a lecture about how to properly handle (re: ass kiss) demanding (re: daemon) customers, but before he could get a word out, Gladio raised a hand to stop him.

"Look, I know why you're back here and I'm going to stop you before you say anything. Princess already gave me an earful about it," he said, scratching the side of his neck. 

"Oh?"

"Yeah, look Blondie, I wasn't trying to yell at you, alright? I was just trying to get that fucking nightmare out of here as soon as possible. Noctis says I uh, _take my anger out on other people when I'm upset_ ," he said, enunciating the words with a little sneer that had Prompto trying, and failing, not to laugh. "I wasn't pissed at you. You're doing fine, okay? You didn't do anything wrong." 

Well, that was... well, better than expected. To say the least. 

"So, we good?" Gladio asked, looking at Prompto expectantly. 

"Yeah," he said, "we're good." 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

"What about _Brotherhood Coffee_?" Gladio asked with flourish, gazing at some imaginary spot in the distance as if he could envision the sign hanging over their little cafe. 

It had been a full week since finals, summer in full swing, and Prompto had been feeling, for lack of better words, pretty fucking good. The weather had been gorgeous, so much free time after the stress of school was heavenly, and he even had a decent job. He'd been maybe hurting for cash a little, and trying to scope out if he could pick up some more hours, but on slow days like today he didn't know if it was going to happen. The door was propped open and letting a nice breeze in but sadly no customers were coming with it.

"Really?" Iris said, poking her head around from the kitchen, " _Brother_ hood? I'm pretty sure I do more work around here than all of you combined." Gladio waved her off with a large hand, but went back to brainstorming nonetheless, scratching the name off of his notepad.

Prompto himself was currently making a mental list of the pros and cons of dating a baker. The cons being mostly limited to the fact that Ignis would be up at 3 A.M. or some other equally ridiculous time, meaning there would be no slowly waking up together, no lazy mornings spent in bed. Of course this did open up the opportunity for lots of afternoon naps together, which was definitely a pro. 

"This isn't even your place Iris, it's mine and Iggy's!" Gladio yelled towards the kitchen, somewhat belatedly. He'd probably decided Brotherhood Coffee made for a better name than anything else he'd come up with.

Iris's response (unsurprisingly rude and vulgar) was muffled as she yelled it back, and Gladio only rolled his eyes. Iris was quick to laugh and sweet as pie, but only until someone made her mad. Growing up with Gladio as a brother seemed to have rubbed off on her in the end, and Prompto had found that out the hard way when she caught him trying to take a bite out of the last muffin (oversized currant and orange topped with some kind of crumble), which she'd apparently called dibs on. Prompto had found himself in a chokehold, and when Gladio hurried over to see what all the commotion was about he'd been laughing too hard to actually do anything about it. Prompto suspected it was probably a move he'd taught her. At least Ignis hadn't been around to see it. 

"Prompto?" Iris said, walking out from the back while holding something behind her back, "I've got something for you."

With curiosity, Prompto straightened up from where he'd been leaning on the counter.

"Here," she said, as she thrust something forward into Prompto's hands, and he look down with interest.

It was a mug. A large ceramic mug with a rounded base, the outside a matte finish, speckled dark brown, the inside glazed with shades of blue, pale near the rim, pooling darker at the bottom. And carved into the sides-

"Iris are those... cameras?" he asked, laughing as he ran a finger over the etched designs. Cameras, film, a tripod. Iris was laughing too.

"I couldn't come up with anything else! Besides, photography is like, your _thing_ , you know?"

"You couldn't... wait Iris, did you make this?"

"Of course I did, silly. Where did you think all the others came from?" Now that she mentioned it, he'd seen Iris, Gladio, and Ignis all drinking out of similar mugs. All different shapes and colors, but styled the same, glossy interiors of various colors, matte exteriors carved with designs (Gladioluses and Irises on each of their mugs respectively, sprigs of herbs on Iggy's). They were cool but Prompto hadn't given them much thought, figuring they were store bought. "I made Noct one too, but I haven't had a chance to give it to him. You're not the only one with artistic talent, you know," she said, and gave him a playful punch in the arm.

"Iris has decided to take up pottery," Gladio said from behind him, and Prompto could practically hear him rolling his eyes again.

"I haven't heard you complaining when I bring in more dishes to replace the ones you keep _breaking_ , Gladdy," she said, giving her brother a pointed look, before turning back to Prompto. "You're official now! Part of the family. Congrats, you're stuck with us."

"Thanks Iris," he said, turning the mug over in his hands again, and damn it if he didn't just feel a little misty. 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

"You wanna ask Noct?"

"I'd rather not burn the place down, if it's all the same to you."

"Well... what about Prompto?"

" _What_  about me?" Pompto asked from the doorway where he'd overheard his name while hanging up his apron for the night. Curiosity had gotten the better of him and even though he knew he  _probably_  shouldn't have been listening in on their conversation, he also reasoned that they had left the door open. You leave the door open if you don't mind if someone walks in on your conversation. Right?

Ignis and Gladio looked up at him in unison before exchanging glances. Gladio spoke up, "Iggy thinks it's about time we hired a bakery assistant."

"If business continues expanding the way it has been, I won't be able to keep up on my own. Not to mention that should I be unable to come into work for a day, no one would know how to pick up the slack," he shot a look at Gladio that gave Prompto the impression that he had made a point of mentioning this before. 

"You wanna ask  _me_?" Prompto was more than a little surprised but Ignis seemed unfazed. He adjusted his glasses before answering.

"With the semester over the early morning shifts won't make for scheduling issues, and you're better about being on time than our other lovely employees. Plus, Noctis has given me the impression that you might be interested in picking up some more hours." Ah yes, leave it to Ignis to find the most polite way to say  _we know you're broke_. "Should you decide to accept, with the additional work involved there would of course be monetary compensation."

"You mean a raise?" his eyebrows shot up at that, and Ignis responded with a warm look on his face and a nod.

More money, first dibs on everything that came out of Ignis's miracle kitchen, and the chance to spent his mornings alone with the enigmatic baker himself? 

"Count me in."

 

**Author's Note:**

> send me the recipe for your favorite baked good @[notthelasttime](https://notthelasttime.tumblr.com/)


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